


it feels so scary, gettin' old

by matsuhanasss



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Crushes, Graduation, Grief/Mourning, Implied Relationships, M/M, Self-Doubt, Talk of loss, a tad sad, i cried while writing it so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22476136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matsuhanasss/pseuds/matsuhanasss
Summary: todd anderson graduates, and so do the others.
Relationships: Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	it feels so scary, gettin' old

**Author's Note:**

> title from ribs by lorde

Graduation comes sooner than Todd anticipates.

He wonders how he’s made it this far—a reflection of the sorts. It feels weird that he’s not graduating with Neil and Charlie. Charlie moved to a public school after he’s been kicked out Welton, managing to smuggle himself onto Welton’s campus to see Todd and the others as often as he can. And Neil… well he died. And the wound is still fresh and scary, and it burns anytime someone brings it up. Welton had held an air of tenseness to it after Neil’s suicide, but of course it would. One of their students was dead.

Todd misses Neil more than he’d like to admit.

Knox is the first to leave Welton. He gets one last picture, the group of them all in each other’s arms, large smiles spread across their faces. They’re all crying, even if they don’t want to admit it, but Knox does by wiping his eyes and giving them one final, sad smile. Just like that, Knox is gone off to Yale. Meeks is next. It’s another picture, a tearful goodbye, and he’s off to MIT. Then the only people left are Charlie, Pitts, and Todd. Pitt’s is the last one to leave. He’s off to MIT, like Meeks, and Todd wishes him well, and so does Charlie. 

Just like that, Charlie and Todd are the only ones left. Todd wonders what Neil would be doing right now.

“I miss him,” Todd says under his breath, loud enough for Charlie to hear, but no one else. Because Charlie is the only person who needs to hear.

“I do too,” Charlie says. He’s looking out at the horizon and Todd wonders if Charlie has been thinking about Neil this entire time. Charlie was Neil’s best friend; it plagues both of them that they couldn’t help Neil. Todd tosses an arm around Charlie’s shoulders before pulling him into a hug. Charlie hugs him back, tightly. There are fat tears rolling down Todd’s cheeks, and he muffles his near sobs into Charlie’s shirt. Charlie just holds him, rubbing Todd’s back and letting a few tears escape himself. Todd pulls out of the hug, wiping his eyes and laughing, looking up to the sky.

“I didn’t think graduation would be this hard,” Todd says. And he’s not lying. He didn’t think graduation would be this hard, even without Neil here. But seeing his friends go, one-by-one, on their own paths—by themselves—somewhere where Todd may never see them again makes him hurt. They were his best friends and now he may never see them again.

Todd thinks the world works in mysterious ways. He’s on his way to Princeton to major in creative writing, much to his parents' chagrin; Charlie’s made it into the University of Pennsylvania, but he hasn’t told anyone his major yet. Todd’s not even Charlie knows what it’s going to be. 

“He’d be proud of you, y’know? Of us. But I think especially you,” Charlie says, his voice low and melancholy. There's a hint of something sweet there, of fondness and love. Todd sniffs and wipes his nose, daring himself not to cry again.

Yeah. Yeah, I know,” Todd says. And he does. He does know that Neil would be proud of all of them, but he knows that Neil would be especially proud of him–even if that seems selfish to say. Neil had worked his way into Todd’s life, chipping at his walls and everything that kept Todd closed off, until he successfully crumbled it for himself and the Club. Todd had tried to stay open, let his walls fall more, and it worked. He could speak up for himself now, could speak up for an injustice when he saw one. 

Neil would be so proud of all of them. 

After some silence, Charlie says he has to go. There’s a long hug exchanged between him and Todd before Charlie ever really does go. Charlie lets out a soft little “I’m proud of you” before he lets go and waves bye to Todd. Todd is wiping furiously at his eyes once more, heading towards his parents and his brother. The sun leaves an orange glow on everything, making the present already feel like a hazy memory. 

His parent’s congratulate him for what might be the billionth time that day, and his brother throws his arm around Todd’s shoulders, pulling Todd into his side. Todd knows his parents are talking to him, but all their words are muddled and not entering his brain. He’s letting out thank you’s and yes’s and no’s without really hearing or thinking about what he’s responding to.

_He’d be proud of you. I’m proud of you._

The car ride home is unbearable. Todd wants to be alone with his thoughts, and if he thinks about it too deeply, the road. There’s nothing stopping him from getting in the car and finding backroads to ride down and think about all of us. The ending of his youth. 

“I’m gonna head out for a bit,” Todd shouts, grabbing a jacket and the keys, already out of the door before he hears a response. He starts the car and books it out of his suburb, finding somewhere empty to drive and think. 

He’s racing down the road, he knows this. If there were a speed limit, he’d be over it. Todd doesn’t care though. There’s nothing holding him back anymore. No being perfect for school, no being perfect for parents, no being perfect for anybody. He can be done for once. He can relax. 

God, he can relax. 

Todd knows he’s already let down his family in some form, going to college for writing. His brother went to be a doctor. Why couldn’t he be a doctor? A lawyer, maybe? his parents had asked him these questions; asked him if he was sure he wanted to be a writer. And he was, he was so, so sure about this. Todd could have what he wanted and he would take it this time, he would take every ounce of this freedom he got because he had nothing left to give of himself. There was nothing left to give of himself and he had no one to give it to anymore.   
Yet, somehow, Todd feels more alone than ever. 

He misses all of them already—Meeks, Knox, Pitts, and Charlie. Neil. Misses them more than anything. Todd thinks about all of his unresolved feelings, most about Neil. He’s sure—more like he knows—he was in love with Neil, as scary as it is to think. And Todd thinks it might have been mutual, but he never acted on it because he’s a coward at his finest. He thinks back to the nights Charlie would talk to Todd about Knox. How there could be something, but even Charlie was too afraid to speak up. 

Todd feels like his life is passing by him as he drives through his town, his little city. This town gave him nothing and everything at the same time. It gave him friends and opportunities, but it took friends away and gave him grief and loss and sorrow. It gave him his love for Whitman, when he buried himself in the books after class and when he was home on breaks. He scavenged for anything he could get. It gave him an openness, a confidence to, in some way, express himself. Let himself be just a little looser and let those walls come down.

Todd doesn’t know where he’d be without Welton or this town. Where he’d be without Neil or Charlie or Meeks or Pitts or even Cameron. Maybe he’d everywhere and maybe he’d be nowhere at the same time. As he passes trees and brush and as the sun sets along the horizon, Todd thinks about how everything could have gone and how everything went. Wrong and right, bad and good. If he had decisions maybe he would change them, and at the same time he doesn’t think he would because he wouldn’t be who he was. 

There’s always memory, Todd thinks to himself. There’s always memory to look back on. Photographs. He has books upon books of pictures of him and his friends at Welton. Journals written about the boys by him for them—words he always wanted to say but never got to, may never get to. As Todd drives down these roads, winding and straight, he feels strangely numb to all this.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @bloodyknuckles


End file.
